CHAPTER XXI
THE PIT
They met an hour later at luncheon, all but the Duchessa, who sulked inher garden. Tato was bright and smiling, filled with a suppressed joywhich bubbled up in spite of the little one's effort to be dignified andsedate. When her hand stole under the table to find and press that ofher father, Uncle John beamed upon her approvingly; for he knew what hadoccurred and could sympathize with her delight.
The Duke, however, was more sombre than usual. He had defied his mother,successfully, so far; but he feared the terrible old woman more than didTato, because he knew more of her history and of the bold and wickeddeeds she had perpetrated in years gone by. Only once had a proposedvictim escaped her, and that was when her own daughter Bianca had fallenin love with an American held for ransom and spirited him away from thevalley through knowledge of the secret passage. It was well Bianca hadfled with her lover; otherwise her mother would surely have killed her.But afterward, when the girl returned to die in the old home, all wasforgiven, and only the hatred of her foreign husband, whose cruelty haddriven her back to Sicily, remained to rankle in the old Duchessa'swicked heart.
No one knew her evil nature better than her son. He entertained asuspicion that he had not conquered her by his recent opposition to herwill. Indeed, he would never have dared to brave her anger except forTato's sake. Tato was his idol, and in her defense the cowardly brigandhad for the moment become bold.
Tato laughed and chatted with Uncle John all through the meal, eventrying at times to cheer the doleful Ferralti, who was nearly as glumand unsociable as her father. The servants and brigands at the lower endof the table looked upon the little one admiringly. It was evident shewas a general favorite.
On the porch, after luncheon, the Duke broached the subject of theransoms again, still maintaining the fable of selling his antiquejewelry.
"Sir," said Uncle John, "I'm going to submit gracefully, but upon onecondition."
The Duke scowled.
"I allow no conditions," he said.
"You'd better allow this one," Uncle John replied, "because it will makeit easier for all of us. Of my own free will and accord I will make apresent to Tato of fifty thousand dollars, and she shall have it for herdowry when she marries."
Tato clapped her hands.
"How did you know I am a girl, when I wear boys' clothes?" she asked.
Even the duke smiled, at that, but the next moment he shook his headsolemnly.
"It will not do, signore," he declared, answering Uncle John'sproposition. "This is a business affair altogether. You must purchasethe ring, and at once."
The little American sighed. It had been his last hope.
"Very well," he said; "have your own way."
"You will send to your friends for the money?"
"Whenever you say, Duke. You've got me in a hole, and I must wiggle outthe best way I can."
The brigand turned to Ferralti.
"And you, signore?" he asked.
"I do not know whether I can get the money you demand."
"But you will make the attempt, as I shall direct?"
"Yes."
"Then, signori, it is all finished. In a brief time you will leave myhospitable roof."
"The sooner the better," declared Ferralti.
They sat for a time in silence, each busy with his thoughts.
"Go to your grandmother, Tato," said the Duke, "and try to make yourpeace with her. If she is too angry, do not remain. To-morrow you mustgo into town with letters from these gentlemen to their friends."
The child kissed him and went obediently to do his will. Then thebrigand spoke to Tommaso, who brought writing material from the houseand placed it upon a small table.
Uncle John, without further demur, sat down to write. The Duke dictatedwhat he should say, although he was allowed to express the words in hisown characteristic style, and he followed his instructions implicitly,secretly admiring the shrewdness of the brigand's methods.
It was now Ferralti's turn. He had just seated himself at the table andtaken the pen when they were startled by a shrill scream from the rearof the house. It was followed by another, and another, in quicksuccession.
It was Tato's voice, and the duke gave an answering cry and sprang fromthe veranda to dart quickly around the corner of the house. Uncle Johnfollowed him, nearly as fearful as the child's father.
Tommaso seized a short rifle that stood near and ran around the house inthe other direction, when Ferralti, who for a moment had seemed dazed bythe interruption, followed Tommaso rather than the others.
As they came to the rear they were amazed to see the old Duchessa, whomthey had known to be feeble and dependent upon her women, rush throughthe garden hedge with the agility of a man, bearing in her arms thestruggling form of little Tato.
The child screamed pitifully, but the woman glared upon Tommaso andFerralti, as she passed them, with the ferocity of a tiger.
"She is mad!" cried Ferralti. "Quick, Tommaso; let us follow her."
The brigand bounded forward, with the young man scarce a pace behindhim. The woman, running with wonderful speed in spite of her burden,began to ascend a narrow path leading up the face of a rugged cliff.
A yell of anguish from behind for a moment arrested Ferralti's rapidpursuit. Glancing back he saw the Duke running frantically toward them,at the same time waving his arms high above his head.
"The pit!" he shouted. "She is making for the pit. Stop her, for thelove of God!"
Ferralti understood, and dashed forward again at full speed. Tommasoalso understood, for his face was white and he muttered terrible oathsas he pressed on. Yet run as they might, the mad duchessa was inspiredwith a strength so superhuman that she kept well in advance.
But the narrow path ended half way up the cliff. It ended at a deepchasm in the rocks, the edge of which was protected by a large flatstone, like the curb of a well.
With a final leap the old woman gained this stone, and while thedreadful pit yawned at her feet she turned, and with a demoniacal laughfaced her pursuers, hugging the child close to her breast.
Tommaso and Ferralti, who were nearest, paused instinctively. It was nowimpossible for them to prevent the tragedy about to be enacted. TheDuke, spurred on by fear, was yet twenty paces in their rear, and in amoment he also stopped, clasping his hands in a gesture of vainentreaty.
"Listen, Lugui!" his mother called to him, in a dear, high voice. "Thisis the child that has come between us and turned you from a man into acoward. Here alone is the cause of our troubles. Behold! I will removeit forever from our path."
With the words she lifted Tato high above her head and turned toward thepit--that terrible cleft in the rocks which was believed to have nobottom.
At her first movement Tommaso had raised his gun, and the Duke,perceiving this, called to him in an agonized voice to fire. But eitherthe brigand wavered between his loyalty to the Duke or the Duchessa, orhe feared to injure Tato, for he hesitated to obey and the moments wereprecious.
The child's fate hung in the balance when Ferralti snatched the weaponfrom the brigand's hands and fired it so hastily that he scarcely seemedto take aim.
A wild cry echoed the shot. The woman collapsed and fell, dropping Tatoat her feet, where they both tottered at the edge of the pit. The child,however, clung desperately to the outer edge of the flat stone, whilethe Duchessa's inert form seemed to hesitate for an instant and thendisappeared from view.
Tommaso ran forward and caught up the child, returning slowly along thepath to place it in the father's arms. Ferralti was looking vaguely fromthe weapon he held to the pit, and then back again, as if not fullyunderstanding what he had done.
"Thank you, signore," said the Duke, brokenly, "for saving my preciouschild."
"But I have slain your mother!" cried the young man, horrified.
"The obligation is even," replied the duke. "She was also yourgrandmother."
Ferralti stood motionless, his face working convulsively, hi
s tonguerefusing to utter a sound.
"But he did not shoot my grandmother at all," said Tato, who was sobbingagainst her father's breast; "for I heard the bullet strike the rockbeside us. My grandmother's strength gave way, and she fainted. It wasthat that saved me, padre mia."
Aunt Jane's Nieces Abroad Page 22
